


The Box Of Delights

by the_random_writer



Category: Cut & Run - Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux
Genre: Humor, M/M, Neighbors, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 15:06:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6990379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_random_writer/pseuds/the_random_writer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ty and Zane find themselves on the receiving end of some unusual trash.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Box Of Delights

Ty balanced the heavy bin on his hip and flipped open the lid of the cart, intending to empty the former into the latter. He glanced inside the sturdy container and immediately held his hand. The damn thing was almost full, even though it had only been emptied at the start of the week. And unless his spouse had gone on an epic, secret spending spree while he'd been out minding the store, _not_ of their own trash.

Ty let out an indignant huff. If there was one thing he couldn't stand (other than motorbikes, paperwork, coffee, horses, squirrels, chipmunks, moths, Ohio and small spaces), it was unauthorized use of a garbage container. The municipal code was very clear. Anyone who put their trash in a cart belonging to another house without the owner's explicit consent was breaking numerous laws, and could face a hefty fine.

He would normally be more than happy to overlook such minor legal violations, especially if doing so made their lives hassle-free. But he couldn't quite bring himself to overlook this. If only because the garbage cart was so damn small and emptied on such an infrequent basis; apparently to encourage them to recycle as much of their waste as they could. If he left the unlawful trash in his cart, there would be no room for his own addition. He would have to put out a separate bag, which the garbage guys might or might not collect, depending on how well their run was going by the time they arrived at the house.

Besides, what kind of message would it send to the perpetrator of the crime if he willingly allowed his refuse space to be so badly abused? He had principles, damn it. An ex-marine's home was his castle, and that surely included his garbage cart as much as his king-sized bed.

He set his bin down on the ground, reached into the filthy cart and hauled out the foreign intruder; an enormous, brown cardboard box emblazoned with the Amazon logo. The markings erased any lingering doubt as to the provenance of the item. When you owned and ran a local, independent store, especially one that sold books, buying anything from the online giant was almost a mortal sin.

He quickly rotated the box, looking for the printed label with the destination name and address. This would tell him which one of his previously well-regarded neighbours was now in line for a figurative kick in the ass, courtesy of one Tyler Grady. Unfortunately, the neighbour in question had obviously thought the matter through, and had scribbled out their information with a sharpie or a permanent marker.

So much for _that_ idea.

Hmm. What should his next move be? Should he find another way to trace the owner, or put the damn thing back in the cart and simply let the matter go?

It didn't take him very long to decide. As his husband and friends would no doubt wearily confirm, letting go had never really been one of his strengths.

He opened the box, intending to rifle through the contents for clues, and nearly dropped it like a hot stone when he saw exactly what it contained. The empty, sliced open plastic packets for every kind of sex toy under the sun. Almost a dozen of them in all; everything from butt plugs, cock rings and rabbit vibrators to nipple clamps, strap-ons and gags. And a set of those shiny balls. He knew exactly where they went, but had never completely figured out what the hell they were supposed to do.

He heaved the mother of all frustrated sighs and allowed the box to drop to the ground. He wasn't a prude by any stretch of the imagination, so the nature of the illicit trash didn't bother him at all. But why the hell did weird shit like this always happen to him? Why sex toys, and not the packaging for china cups or expensive, high-end electronics? He furrowed his brows, trying to remember when he'd last had too much to drink and accidentally dared the universe to do its worst. But nothing obvious came to mind, so perhaps this time, the universe was simply bored, and acting entirely of its own volition.

He dealt with his trash as per the original plan, then grabbed the box by one of its flaps and dragged it back into the house.

Zane looked up from reading his book. "What the hell is that?" he asked as Ty dumped the box on the kitchen counter.

"An unwanted gift," Ty explained. "Some asshole on our street thinks it's okay to use our bin to get rid of their trash."

"Well that's not good."

"Nope."

"And is that an Amazon box?"

"Yep."

Zane tutted. "Bad enough that someone lumbers us with their trash," he complained. "But an _Amazon_ box? That's a low blow, man."

"Lone Star, you don't know the half of it," Ty proclaimed, flashing his husband a wicked grin. "Take a look inside, and you'll understand _exactly_ why they did what they did."

Zane gave him a suspicious stare, then laid his e-reader down on the table, pushed himself up from the couch and sauntered over to the box. His eyebrows shot up under his bangs as he absorbed the astounding view.

"Holy shit," he murmured, a smile breaking across his handsome face. "And here was me thinking _we'd_ be the kinkiest people on the street."

Ty snickered. "Ever have that strange feeling you don't know your neighbours quite as well as you thought?"

"So who's the guilty party?" Zane enquired, examining the sides of the box.

Ty tapped on the obscured address. "Can't tell. The sneaky fucker had the smarts to scribble out their delivery info."

"It's gotta be a mixed-sex couple," Zane declared. "Can't be two guys or two girls."

"You'd think that, based on the contents," Ty acknowledged. "But women are smart, man. I wouldn't put it past them to figure out a new way to use a cock ring."

"They do make very interesting napkin holders."

"True."

"It could be the whiny couple right at the end of the block," was Zane's next suggestion.

"Yeah, except they're both lawyers," Ty pointed out. "So you'd think they'd know better than to go breaking municipal codes."

"I just wondered if maybe they're still pissed about that thing you did with Digger last month," Zane volunteered in a cautious tone.

Ty grimaced. The thought had briefly crossed his mind, but surely this wasn't because of _that_? The experiment hadn't gone as well as the two of them had hoped or planned, but the only serious or permanent damage had been to his garage floor. He'd tried every chemical under the sun to get rid of the enormous stain, so far, without much luck.

"But it's not as if I tried to duck that," Ty grumbled. "I wrote an apology letter to everyone on our side of the street."

"I know you did," Zane said soothingly. "And a very nicely worded letter it was, too. Slightly grovelling, but somehow giving zero fucks at the same time. Your Grady ancestors would have been _very_ proud."

Ty snorted. Of the letter and the lack of fucks, maybe. Of him almost burning his garage to the ground, not so much. In the grand of scheme of things, it wasn't quite as reckless as shooting an oven with a gun, but it was getting close.

"I just can't see it being the whiny lawyers, whatever the motivation," Ty said. "They're far too quiet and boring to have any kinks."

Zane shrugged slightly. "People are like farts, doll. It's always the quiet ones you have to worry about."

Ty couldn't argue with his husband there. "You think anyone ever says the same thing about us?" he wondered.

"What, that we're like farts?"

"No, dumbass," Ty said snippily. "That we're too quiet and boring to have any kinks."

Zane let out a cynical snort. "I doubt it."

"What makes you so sure?"

"We're a same-sex couple," Zane replied, as if this was an entirely obvious and all-encompassing explanation.

Ty nodded and rolled his eyes. Of course. "Which means we must be complete and utter perverts."

"Who spend every waking moment fisting, balling or blowing each other senseless," Zane continued.

"And doing naughty things to strange men in abandoned public washrooms."

Zane huffed. "Hey, that was one time," he protested. "And who the hell are you calling 'strange'?"

Ty grinned and flashed his brows. Two months on, and thinking about what he'd done to his husband in the privacy of that deserted stall still made him tingle in his manly regions.

"Besides," Zane went on, "the last time I fucked you senseless on the bedroom floor, we left the goddamn window open."

"Yeah, so?"

"So everyone and their dog in a four block radius knows you couldn't be quiet and boring if the fate of the planet depended on it."

"Oh, and what the fuck are you when you get going, Garrett?" Ty retorted. "A French fucking mime?"

Zane squirmed in his shoes, blushing slightly. "What can I say? Sometimes I like to make a lot of noise."

"You get too loud, Garrett, and I might have to make you wear one of those gags."

"Only if you wear the nipple clamps."

"Yeah, no, that's not gonna happen," Ty said, wincing slightly. "Call me old-fashioned, but I prefer to raise my nipples in the wild."

Zane snickered, then picked up the cardboard box and squinted at the defaced address. "Looks like they used a sharpie on it."

"That's what I thought."

"Don't those magic eraser things get rid of sharpie marks?"

Ty froze. "Yeah, they do," he said, mentally kicking himself in the butt. "Now why the hell didn't I think of that?"

"Don't worry, doll," Zane said tenderly. "You concentrate on being the arm candy in the relationship. Leave the hard stuff like thinking to me."

"Kiss my fabulous ass, Garrett."

"Later, Grady."

"Is that a promise?"

"If you ask nicely, I'll do much more than kiss it," Zane replied, giving him a slutty wink. "Just remind me to close the bedroom window first."

Ty snorted, then pulled open the door of the cupboard under the sink, and rummaged around inside until he found one of the eraser sponges. He ran it briefly under the tap, then took it over to the box and gently wiped it across the blob of black ink. Within two swipes, the sharpie marks had washed away, leaving the name and address of the hapless recipient visible for all to see.

"Well, would you look at that?" Zane murmured.

"That's the accountant guy who lives two doors up, right?" Ty asked. "Wife, dog and three grown-up kids?"

"It sure is."

Ty frowned. "Doesn't he work for some kind of slightly whacko religious group?"

"Yeah, he does," Zane confirmed. "Some bunch called 'The Baltimore Alliance For Family Values'. They have an office up in Butcher's Hill."

"Not seeing a whole lot of family values in the contents of this box," Ty muttered.

Zane inhaled dramatically through his nose. "Don't you just love the smell of righteous hypocrisy in the morning?"

"And aren't they the guys with that billboard over near the Yards?" Ty asked. "The one with the quote from the Bible, about how sodomites should be put to death?"

Zane pulled a frown of his own. "Not sure. But now you mention it, yeah, that rings a bell."

"Kinda ironic, really, when you think about it."

"What is?"

"That our neighbour's got such a bug up his ass about guys who fuck each other when he uses one of these," Ty explained, waving an empty butt plug package.

"I hate to break it to you doll, but if he's using one of those, he's got _way_ more than a bug up his ass."

Ty flashed his husband another grin, then hefted the package in his hand. Based on the length and shape of the plastic cover, it had obviously once contained a sex toy of truly impressive proportions. And no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't imagine it in the hands (or butts) of such normal, boring, professional people. He'd never spoken to the husband, but had swapped a few social pleasantries with the wife. She seemed like a nice lady, with a down-to-earth manner and a warm laugh that reminded him slightly of his mom.

Butt plug. Nice lady. Mom.

Oh, God.

_ABORT, ABORT, ABORT, ABORT, ABORT_

He threw the package back in the box, wiped his hands furiously on the sides of his jeans and took a long, deep, calming breath, trying to prevent an attack of the dry heaves.

"You okay there, doll?" Zane asked.

"Totally fine," Ty lied, vigorously nodding his head. "Was just thinking about what I'm gonna say to the guy when I go see him later."

Zane looked at him askance. "You sure you really wanna do that?" he said quietly.

"You bet your sweet Texan ass I do," Ty retorted. Then his face fell into a frown. "But I guess the fact you're even asking that question means you don't feel the same way."

Zane sighed. "I don't think confronting the guy on his doorstep is such a good idea," he explained. "You'll be putting him completely on the spot. It could get nasty."

"I'm not gonna pick a fight with him, babe," was Ty's placid response. "Just gonna have a quiet chat, let him know we don't appreciate what he did."

Zane obviously wasn't convinced. "I just worry he'll get petty about it. Use it as an excuse to cause trouble for us whenever he can." The corners of his mouth twitched. "Like the next time you and Digger try to burn down, blow up or otherwise destroy the house."

Ty scrunched his face and huffed. It wasn't as if his domestic 'accidents' happened every other week. And it was really none of his neighbour's business what he did to his garage floor.

"So you think I should let it go?"

"Hell, no," Zane replied. "I just think you should go with a slightly less confrontational response."

Ty glowered at his other half. "Well, I suppose that makes sense," he grudgingly admitted.

Zane graced him with a dazzling smile. "It was my suggestion," he pointed out. "Of _course_ it makes sense."

Ty rolled his eyes and muttered quietly to himself about assholes with unbearable egos.

"So what would you do?" was what he actually said out loud.

"Something satisfying, but extremely safe."

"We're talking revenge here, Garrett," Ty said impatiently. "Not hand jobs or low-fat muffins."

The dazzling smile faded to a withering glare. "Something that'll make it clear we know exactly what he did, but in a way that doesn't embarrass him right to his face."

Ty nodded in understanding. "Gotcha. And if that's gonna be our approach, then I think I already know what to do."

He pulled a notepad, a pen and a roll of Scotch tape out of a nearby drawer and scrawled a message across a piece of paper, which he then fixed to the top of the box.

Zane angled his head to read the note.

DEAL WITH YOUR OWN DAMN TRASH. IF YOU'RE SO ASHAMED OF IT, DON'T FUCKING BUY IT.

"Nice," he said, giving Ty an approving thumbs up.

Ty beamed, delighted with both their detective work and the proposed response. This would teach their asshole neighbour not to mess with the married dudes at number twenty-four.

"So he's gonna know it's from us, but he won't be able to say or do anything about it without admitting that he used our cart," he explained.

Zane nodded. "And every time one of us sees him, we can look him straight in the eye, and we'll know that he knows that we know."

"Absolutely," Ty agreed. Then he frowned slightly. "I think."

"So are you gonna leave the box on top of their cart?" Zane asked.

Ty snorted. "Screw that. I'mma dump it on their front doorstep, ring the bell and run away."

"Well, that's mature."

Jesus. Some people were just no fucking fun at all.

"You wanted safe, Lone Star," Ty retorted. "You didn't say shit about mature."

Zane shrugged, conceding the point. "You think the wife knows what her husband's been buying?"

Ty pointed at the sliced open package for the rabbit vibrator. "Pretty sure that's for the lady of the manor, babe. Not the lord."

"So we're not gonna accidentally expose the intimate details of his sex life to someone he wouldn't want to know?"

"Can't say for sure, but probably not," Ty replied. "And it's real nice of you to consider that, by the way. I sure as hell wouldn't. And I don't think he would, either."

"That's because my mama raised me right," Zane explained, the fine lines around his eyes crinkling in amusement. Then his expression turned more grave. "And unlike Mister Family Values, I'm not ashamed of who I fuck, or how I prefer to fuck them, so I wouldn't give a damn what he did one way or the other."

Ty managed a distracted nod. Listening to Zane talk about who and how he liked to fuck was making his manly regions do an awful lot more than tingle.

"So when are you gonna do the thing?" Zane asked, snapping him out of his libidinous thoughts.

"Hmm? Oh, probably later tonight, just before we go to bed. I'mma put my camo gear on and sneak along the road like a ninja. And I'll wear my balaclava, just in case."

"Ty, you're leaving a box of trash on somebody's doorstep. Not taking out a terrorist cell."

"Details, man. Details."

"You could keep the balaclava on when you come home," Zane suggested nonchalantly.

Ty frowned at his other half. Where the hell had _that_ come from? Was this an old kink they'd never explored, or something completely new?

"You looking for some hostage role-play tonight, Garrett?" he asked with a mischievous grin. "Getting fucked senseless in an abandoned washroom not exciting enough for you?"

"They do say variety is the spice of life."

"But conformity is the meat and potatoes."

Zane's shoulders slumped in disappointment. "No balaclava fun, then?" he asked forlornly.

"Did I say that?"

"No, you didn't," Zane acknowledged, suddenly perking up again. "And you know I would totally make it worth your while."

"You're already supposed to be doing something nice to or with my ass," Ty reminded his eager spouse. "So you'll have to pull out all the stops." He had a few ideas of his own, but would keep them to himself for now. Zane rarely needed his assistance on that particular front. The man was nothing if not extremely creative.

The creator in question clasped his hands behind his back and slowly paced around the room, deliberately making a silly show of thinking his proposal through.

"Hmm. How to pull out all the stops," Zane murmured, mostly to himself.

A few moments later, he ground to a halt, clapped his hands and gave Ty a triumphant grin.

Ty shivered slightly in anticipation. He knew that grin, only too well. Whatever Zane was about to suggest would be more than worth the hassle of the balaclava.

"Okay, Meow Mix. Here's the deal," Zane announced.

"How about, for the rest of the month, _I_ take out the kitchen trash?"


End file.
